


The Accidental Enigma of Ser Daphen Atterwin

by AdmiralAnarchy



Series: Reliquaries and Remembrances [3]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Compliant, Demons, Dragon Age Lore, The Veil (Dragon Age), Worldbuilding, but also so many headcanons, excessive amounts of it, fade theories, just a man and his bard off to save the world one wrestled monster at a time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:13:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 7,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26731198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdmiralAnarchy/pseuds/AdmiralAnarchy
Summary: Ser Daphen Atterwin, proud ecologist and explorer of the world, is not your typical scholar.After encountering an atypical specimen in the field, he may be the best person for the job- and will change the foundations of Thedas while he's at it.Or: an uplifting story about ecology, friendship, and hope in the future.
Series: Reliquaries and Remembrances [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1857721
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's done! Lemme know what you think and if you'd be interested in more like this!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wow hey hello again, just me posting yet another Dragon Age fic despite not having finished the other two I have going. This one is luckily already mostly finished as of posting these first two chapters, so that's cool at least right?
> 
> Anyway this is dedicated entirely to my bff who got me into this fandom in the first place and wanted a wholesome, Steve Irwin-esque OC.
> 
> I love worldbuilding, and who best to explore the wild world of Thedas with an open heart, than the two greatest field biologists out there- Sir David Attenborough and Steve Irwin.

_ "The Bubbletip Fern, found predominantly throughout the forested Dales, is a marvel of plant and animal cohabitation- and also of predation. Bubbles of sticky goo bead at the tip of each furled leaf, trapping insects for this carnivorous plant to break down slowly, but such bounty attracts birds who greedily feast on the remaining insects! Yet, it is this process that removes the hard leftovers, so that the cycle may continue. Such bittersweet companionship! The leaf and stem of this fern is also a potent food dye, leaving a bright fuschia coloring when added, that persists long after digestion."  _ - _ Plants of Thedas Vol. 2,  _ Ser Daphen Atterwin, transcribed by Benjanim Jasparelle

* * *

The roaring ruckus of the tavern was a footnote compared to the whirling thoughts floating through Daphen's head. He'd bungled it again, he just knew it, and Benjanim was going to flay him alive. He'd broken the one rule… although it wasn't entirely his doing. Duke Mon Del'Amine had attended and that bastard always knew to aim his verbal punches right in the thesis. He'd been like that since university, and while it was nice to know some things never changed, it ruined his lecture on Quillback mating habits.

A fistfight during a heated scholarly discussion was expected, but everyone walking out before the customary after-lecture cocktail party…that was something else.

It had been half a decade since the first invitations to give lectures started trickling in from universities and Circles. Then came talks at conventions, book signings, and even private gatherings of nobles who wished to appear intellectual. His past had been left in the past- or so it had seemed.

Daphen had no regrets regarding his work. He was a field biologist, explorer, and scientist. He had catalogued and studied everything he'd seen in Thedas, from the smallest patch of moss to the largest spider. Everything he'd personally researched, or had been researched before him, had a place in his ever growing compendium of all the living organisms of Thedas. He loved every creature in the world, no matter how dangerous, and strongly believed that fear was the result of simply not understanding something. 

That, oddly enough, wasn't what made him an outcast amongst his peers.

That honor lay with a hypothesis he developed nearly two decades ago, and the cause of his most recent public shaming. It had been awhile since he had been booed away from the podium. It was just as awful as the last time. 

"You look like someone took a piss on your shoe," Benjanim observed.

He had returned to the table, an oversized flagon of cheap, disgusting Orlesian ale in each hand and a frown turning the corners of his thin lips. The half-elf's countenance was always a little on the dour side, but it seemed especially magnified today. Probably because he was stuck with a pariah. Or maybe it was due to the caviar eclair cooling on his silk shirt, chucked at him by a particularly haughty botanist. 

"Someone did, except the shoe was my lecture. I didn't even get to the section on genitalia structure." Daphen slumped in his seat and scrubbed a hand through his hair. Likely only making it stick up more than usual. "I've made a right mess of things. Again."

"How so?" Benjanim slid into the chair across him. "That Duke was an asshole, and only there to cause a scene."

"He wasn't wrong."

Benjanim looked at him for a long thoughtful moment. "You know what would cheer you up?" Daphen grunted sadly. "There's word of a monster to the south west of here."

"A monster?" There was no such thing. 

Someday, he'd prove it, once and for all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benjanim puts up with so much shit. 
> 
> Also fistfights are totally a thing that happen during heated scholarly debates and scentists of all kinds will never turn down alcohol. 
> 
> It's the favored solution for many reasons.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobbit worms are terrifying and I have no idea why they aren't in Dragon Age.

" _ The Common Fereldan Grass Snake is a marvelous creature of great importance. Despite its meager length, it eats more often than any other Southern snake species so far observed. It is thanks to this humble creature that rats, frogs, and insects have not overrun all of Fereldan! Yes, it is this rather average serpent we must thank for keeping our fields and graineries free of unwelcome visitors. Unfortunately, it is often mistaken for the Fereldan Adder, as the patterns of color on their scales are quite similar. Much heartache could be avoided, if only we were to look a little closer for the truth."  _ - _ Reptiles of Thedas Vol. 4,  _ Ser Daphen Atterwin, transcribed by Benjanim Jasparelle

* * *

The Thedosian Sand Bobbit was a magnificent specimen. It could grow to the length of a Qunari dreadnought, and burrowed deep into the cold sands along the edge of the Western Approach. They were incredibly rare, and fed on everything that happened to pass through their powerful mandibles. They had even been seen attacking and successfully dragging juvenile dragons into the depths of their burrows. It took hundreds of years to grow to such a size.

Fortunately, this one was quite young and small, perhaps only eleven Imperial footlengths, or one and a half men, in size. 

Daphen prised the serrated mandibles apart and tugged, the cording rope straining under the force of the Sand Bobbit's thrashing. The first step was removing the juvenile from the underground burrow, then it could be relocated further into the Approach and away from the neighboring small hamlet. The worm would need to start relying on unsuspecting gurns and varghests, but the town's meager livestock and children would be safe. 

The Bobbit threw itself against the pulling rope and Daphen dug his heels into the sandy loam.

"Would you-" he puffed, "you just  _ look _ at the patterning of its chitin?" The Bobbit emitted a low but terrifying shriek as it was tugged further from the hole. "Astounding. This one has recently shed. Another-" he slipped a little, "whoops! Another decade or so and it will shed again and be ready to mate."

Benjanim watched worriedly from the side, tugging the rope further towards the cart using a makeshift pulley. The farmer they had loaned this cart from was going to be very irritated by all the Bobbit worm mucus getting everywhere. He didn't understand why the mucus was even necessary, but was scared to ask.

"Oh good. More Sand Bobbits."

"Isn't it?" Daphen sighed happily, though it was more of a tiny breath as he was getting quite winded. "They are an important and majestic piece of this ecosystem."

To Daphen, everything was an important and majestic piece of an ecosystem, even if he hadn't quite figured out how. He was consistent, in that regard. It's what made him possibly the greatest ecologist out there.

After three hours of tugging and roping, the Bobbit lay defeated on the back of the cart, making a pitiful series of clicks and chirps. Daphen patted its side, his hand slapping on the layer of slime and sand wetly.

"There there, little worm. You'll be back in the sand soon enough." 

Benjanim shook his head and tried not to smile. He'd been at Daphen's side for nearly fifteen years, but the sight of him wrestling man-eating creatures and consoling them like Mabari pups never ceased to amaze him. He had no love for the terrifying and disgusting creatures of the world, or the terrifying and disgusting places they were often found in, but Daphen had plenty to spare. 

"I'm not cleaning off this slime, Daphen."

"Mucus! Nature's miracle lubricant," the man corrected. "It's used, in this case, to reduce the friction of sand against the sensitive skin under their exoskeleton." 

Daphen began rambling, as he did, and Benjanim dutifully nodded along, glad to see his friend's spirits lifted. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sand Bobbit mucus: the wonder lube.
> 
> Until next Wednesday!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Posting another two chapters so that like... this wraps up perfectly in time with major political events in my country, and instead of every Wednesday, it'll update every 4 days from now. 
> 
> Cw for Thedas typical slurs

" _It is during times like these, as I sit around the campfire, joined by my dear friend and an entire troupe of approximately seventeen Ringed "Burglar" Sand-Cats, that I must marvel at the world around me. Such beauty! Sometimes it is easy to spot in the colors of feathers and petals and stars. Sometimes it is hidden away, in machinations unseen. They say the Fade can be shaped, but our world is rigid. Such nonsense! Just as I have befriended these notoriously feral Sand-Cats with only a series of chirps and other such disarming noises, so too can we shape the world around us."_ -Excerpt from _On the Road: Field Biology at the Heart_ by Benjanim Jasparelle, regarding Ser Daphen Atterwin

* * *

Between the proceeds from the failed lecture and the meager payment for the Bobbit removal, minus the settlement for the now incredibly slimy cart, they had just enough to get them to their next venue. An event held by an Orlesian draconologist in a small port town in Nevarra, discussing the many new scientific breakthroughs in the world. Supposedly the man had been part of the Inquisition, or still was, and had many ties with their research department. It was hard to tell if anyone truly left that particular organization.

Daphen had thought of joining, for a time, but he had lived a life of vagrancy for so long that the thought of being tied down didn't sit well with him anymore. He had his dusty home in Amaranthine and his mail was forwarded by a dutiful dwarf secretary and her armada of tracking ravens. He had everything he needed for his work on his back, by his side, and out in nature.

Not to mention some of his best finds had simply crawled into his tent while camping at night. 

No, he liked seeing the wild world beyond, and worried he'd end up roped to a desk, writing instead of observing. Such scholars always became so stuffy. The former was Benjanim's job anyway, as nobody could capture words quite like a Bard. 

"Ser Daphen," Professor Frederic greeted, arms wide and mask gleaming brightly. "How wonderful of you to come! Your observational treatise on the nesting habits of Fereldan Pygmy Wyverns was _fascinating_."

"Frederic! I knew you'd give it a read. It was built upon your Mistral maternal instinct theory, after all." Daphen stroked his wiry, pointed beard with an enthusiasm reserved only for scholarly discourse. "Your work with the Inquisition was quite prolific."

"Surprising I know, but the Inquisition was quite skilled at encountering dragons and I was given a personal escort to observe them."

That was certainly quite generous. Perhaps he had missed out after all. 

"Daphen," Benjanim muttered, "don't look now, but Magister Artellius is coming this way-" Daphen made a disgusted noise and immediately turned to look. Benjanim smacked his shoulder. "I told you not to look!"

"Ah, if it isn't Ser Daphen. Here to tout more of your silly theories?" Artellius cackled in an impressively nasal fashion. "You should stick to waxing poetic about dung beetles."

"Artellius! What an absolute displeasure. I didn't think you'd be in attendance." Daphen shrugged and sipped at his cocktail. "What with your theory on hyena parenting behaviours being disproven in the last quarterly journal." Benjanim coughed to hide his laugh as Daphen nonchalantly added. "By me."

Artellius turned a bright shade of scarlet. "That and he's a Venatori sympathizer," Benjanim spat.

" _Was_ ," Artellius growled. "Not that I'd expect a half-breed knife-ear and a washed-up demon lover to understand anything anyway. The fact they'll publish your drivel is proof enough that the scientific community has fallen low."

"Bastard," Benjanim hissed. "You and the Venatori are nothing but vultures-"

"Now, now, Benji my friend," Daphen interrupted breezily. "Vultures are majestic and misunderstood creatures of immeasurable worth. To compare them to the Venatori is an injustice, as the Venatori are none of those things."

Artellius spluttered, but Daphen had already turned and taken Benjanim's elbow to lead him away despite the after-lecture cocktail party still in full swing. The rest of the small town was quite quiet in comparison to the bustling convention, and the two made their way towards the shoreline. Daphen's boots were left to the side as he splashed around in low tide, the evening just reaching its cusp. Benjanim took a seat on a rock coated in barnacles and simply watched the light glitter on the waves. 

The conventions held by scholars still gave him culture shock, being so different from anything he'd ever attended before. Fortunately, probably for the both of them, they were not held often for the field of biology. Benjanim couldn't say he minded being away from civilization so much these days. Even if he did miss sleeping in real beds and not waking up to strange creatures in his boots.

"Daphen."

The man grunted in reply, not looking up from his inspection of the sand.

"Do you ever regret that thesis of yours?"

Daphen had his back turned away from the sea, straightening to look towards the horizon. Overhead, seabirds called out.

"How could I when the possibility gives me such hope?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daphen:pspspspsps  
> Sandcats:👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Watched the first episode of the new season of BBO and I gotta say... one of the cakes was super relevant. 
> 
> I'll let you guess which

" _There is a fascinating creature living off the coast of Orlais, thriving in the wetlands created by the Shining Sea. It is found nowhere else in Thedas, to my knowledge. The Elven Scarf, the Fanned Snake-Fish, the Plumed Water-Dragon, or as many prefer, myself included, the Whirling Dancer. It is a type of snake, with long, elegant fin-like protrusions like the most delicate of fish that allow it to twirl and twist through the foul waters of the swamps. Unicorns would be easier to find than this beautiful serpent, and some theorize that it may have slipped into this world from the Fade."_ - _Reptiles of Thedas Vol. 2,_ Ser Daphen Atterwin, transcribed by Benjanim Jasparelle

* * *

"Daphen!" Benji called, stomping towards the shore. "The carriage is almost- what _is_ that thing you are holding?"

Daphen shot him a look. " _This_ is a carrot, my dear Benji."

The bard slapped a hand to his face and sighed. "No. The horrid thing you are cradling like a baby."

"Oh!" Daphen brightened. "This is a Tagmatus, or Plated Crab, named after it's fascinating shell." He held it up as if it were a glorious prize, and not a three pieced monstrosity of carapace, spindly crab legs, and straight barbed tail. It had a set of eight eyes on stalks and instead of a mouth, a gaping hole in the center of its chest, where the legs met and ground chunks of carrot occasionally fell. It seemed amiable to being held at least. "Marvelous creature, this!"

Of course it was. "The carriage to take us to the prairieland is on the way."

Daphen set the crab down gently on its back and set the carrot close to two tiny claws in amongst the scrabbling legs that grabbed it eagerly. He'd never seen anything eat in such a way, and held back his vomit. 

"I had forgotten all about the carriage," Daphen muttered. 

It was not the first time, nor would it be the last, but finding someone willing to cart them to an incredibly dangerous area at such a low price was a rare feat they literally couldn't afford to miss. The Nevarran outback was a wild stretch of blistering prairie and home to poisonous, venomous, and aggressive creatures- some of whom were all three at the same time. Such as the Lesser Nevarran Manticore.

Which Daphen was intent on researching next.

Benjanim was not entirely thrilled.

"Serrahs," the carriage driver greeted at their approach. Offtish was a gruff Carta mercenary turned Lord of Fortune turned escort. If anyone could get them to and from Manticore country without dying horrifically, it would be her. "Can't say I get too many folks wanting to go _to_ the Wildervale. Usually it's away."

"Ser Daphen is an ecologist," Benjanim said in way of explanation.

"My condolences," Offtish replied sympathetically.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Horseshoe crabs are terrifying tbh but also are incredibly interesting
> 
> Nobody tell Benjanim their blood is blue and antimicrobial


	5. Chapter 5

" _ The world in which we live and the Fade beyond are bound inextricably, like sides of a coin, with nothing but the thinnest of barriers separating them. So thin, that it can be passed through. Plants and animals, sometimes people and the objects they create, can disappear beyond the Veil, or slip back and forth like the Glass-Foot Hare. So quick and elusive- it is theorized to be a spirit taken form. It begs the question then, of what spirits are, what they could be, and how different they are from us. What then is the Veil? Perhaps a better question;  _ why _ is the Veil?"  _ - _ Unpublished transcript,  _ Ser Daphen Atterwin, transcribed by Benjanim Jasparelle

  
  


How Offtish Nephrite managed to go four hours without murdering Daphen was a mystery. After recounting all the known information on the Lesser Nevarran Manticore, as well as how it differed, significantly, from the Greater Nevarran Manticore, he had somehow begun to give a brief diatribe regarding the nesting habits of the Flightless Bone Finches that shared their nests with both types of Manticores. Benjanim struggled to keep up his writing.

The Nevarran countryside passed by slowly under Daphen's chatter. The paths gradually became rougher and more disused, and the cart struggled against the overgrown foliage and errant rocks. An ivy covered road marker passed, unreadable and unusual.

"What city is that marker for?" Benjanim asked, cutting off Daphen before he could describe any more tongue structures. 

"Nobody knows. Name's gone and lost," Offtish replied. "Place is cursed though. Some kind of demon. Templars go in, sometimes. Don't ever come back out."

"A demon you say?" Daphen mused, eyes watching the marker pass. "Stop here, please." Offtish and Benjanim both turned to him with protests. The ecologist merely laughed, "we won't be long. Just a few hours!"

"Are you  _ mad _ ?" 

"No- well, perhaps." Daphen shook his head, his tone serious. "I have a theory in need of testing."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Offtish would make a good companion for Daphen and Benjanim on the rest of their travels. She could easily benchpress large and feral wildlife. 
> 
> Unfortunately she has common sense.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whooops I forgot what day it was lol

" _ The Antivan Widow Bird, or Mourning Peacock as it is known elsewhere, is a sad case of beauty destroying itself. The females of the species prefer males with long luxuriant tail feathers. The longer, the heavier, the greater the luster- the better. This has, unfortunately, caused the male Widow bird to have a tail so incredibly bulky that it can no longer fly, and the feathers so compacted and long that they can no longer be fanned out to reveal the iridescent mosaic of colors under the deep, abyssal black."  _ - _ The Complete Compendium of Birds of Thedas Volume 3: Birds of Paradise  _ Ser Daphen Atterwin, transcribed by Benjanim Jasparelle

This was an incredibly bad idea. 

Benjanim had no idea how to change Daphen's mind regarding this fact, so he reluctantly followed along anyway. Daphen had assured him it would be okay if he wished to wait with Offtish and the cart, and stupidly he had refused. He'd never waited elsewhere while Daphen had gone off to wrestle bog crocodiles and traipse through Weaver wyvern dens, even if he desperately wanted to, and he wasn't starting now.

He just hoped Daphen's theories were right. He also cursed Duke Mon Del'Amine and Magister Artellius for bringing up the stupid thesis and getting it back in Daphen's head.  _ Maker _ , this was such an incredibly awful idea.

The pathway leading towards the rubble of the ruined town had mostly overgrown, leaving only the deep divots of wagon tracks as a guide up the gentle slope to what had likely been a minor city state of the Free Marches. Untamed fields of long grass carried up the sides of the slope of a wide hill, the top of which was ringed with a crumbling fieldstone wall. A gentle creek poured through the side, likely from a freshwater spring, to flood out the back towards a stillwater lake, crystalline clear as glass. 

It had likely been a beautiful sight in its heyday, but now it just looked like a sad monument of days long gone. The tattered scraps of faded heraldry fluttered weakly in the gentle breeze of the plains, hanging off poles and the sides of the ruined, ivy covered walls. Nestled within were the remains of buildings, most of the wood long since rotted away leaving empty stone and warped rafters. Above the gate was a bony kestrel, watching them impassively.

Daphen stopped along the edge of the path, inspecting the wild fields surrounding them. "Grey stalk rye. It's not native to this climate. Nor does it ever grow so well without constant care."

"Makes a tasty bread though," Benjanim replied absently.

"It does! However it is prone to bad harvests. It is not a crop generally relied on as a sole food source. Odd, and dangerous, to grow so much-"

" **You should not be here** _ , _ " the kestrel suddenly said, echoing and miserable, causing both men to jump. " **You will find nothing but an empty belly in this place. Stay and become hollow, for there is nothing here any longer."**

The kestrel flew off, deeper into the abandoned town, and Benjanim hesitantly said, "those don't usually talk."

"No. No they do not."

"Then… it's the demon Offtish mentioned? Perhaps we should leave-"

"Such a sad voice that creature had, don't you think?" Daphen stared at where the kestrel had sat with a thoughtful look.

The demon did sound sad- immensely so. Like all that was good and vibrant in the world had been stripped away, leaving nothing but barren cold.

"It mentioned how there was nothing here and yet," Daphen continued, grinning and happily gesturing to their surroundings. "All I see is  _ something _ . All around us!"

Sometimes Benjanim wished to see the world as Daphen did, more so during times like these. Was it the plants? Growing over stone and from debris- or perhaps the birds chirping away above, or the insects buzzing around them? 

"We shouldn't stay."

"Perhaps. Yet to leave feels like an injustice in itself, don't you think?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Widow bird is real and very sad. Also kestrels are adorable murder sparrows


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuggin' right along

" _ I speak frequently of Ser Daphen Atterwin's accomplishments; his work cataloging and studying and occasionally saving the many creatures of Thedas. I don't speak often of the lesser known creatures he saves. Creatures like myself, who think themselves beyond saving at times. At my lowest points, I still think of how he looked at me and saw something bright, that I had always missed seeing, and saved me from myself. Sometimes I wonder if there is anything he can't save. Perhaps, only himself."  _ -Excerpt from _ On the Road: Field Biology at the Heart  _ by Benjanim Jasparelle, regarding Ser Daphen Atterwin

"Fascinating," Daphen said, awestruck. "Such a marvelous state this place is in."

Benjanim wasn't so sure, warily tracking the movements of the kestrel demon as it watched them from above. They had gone deeper into the ruined town, despite Benjanim's misgivings and the demon's warning. It was… not what he expected from a long abandoned township long since fallen into disrepair. 

The buildings were reduced to shells, that much was expected, and all were overgrown with plants, also expected. However the plants, animals, and even  _ insects _ became gradually more unusual the deeper within they went. Currently, they were both standing in the midst of an ancient Chantry, trailing silver vines cascading over warped and broken pews. They flickered in the afternoon light, and bloomed soft periwinkle and lavender in the shade. 

"The Fade is bleeding into this world, likely due to the influence of the spirit here."

"Demon," Benjanim corrected.

"Look!" Daphen pointed to a tiny nest in the corner of the collapsing roof, shaped from spider silk and dried leaves and flower petals. "Artisan Finches. A rare find, only appearing where the Veil is thin."

"How do they know anyway? So many things, hinging on the Veil, or ignoring it completely." Benjanim frowned. Even he had to admit the nest  _ was _ rather charming. 

"There are theories that the Veil was created, long ago. It isn't a natural feature of this world, that the two realms were once combined."

What a terrifying thought. 

"So these animals… they just… keep going? Like nothing changed?"

Daphen laughed, his voice echoing off the stone and disturbing a flock of iridescent butterflies.

"Oh no, I imagine  _ everything _ changed for all the denizens of Thedas, the Fade along with it. They simply did what all things must do when change comes to the world."

A few of the butterflies took shelter on Daphen's clothing, flapping slowly as they settled. Their wings were beautiful, the ever changing colors outlined in deep black, like stained glass, with little tails that fluttered as they moved.

"They adapted, adjusted themselves to weather the shifting macrocosm to which they belonged. Something we must all do someday, for change is as inevitable as the tides."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ecology is fantastic!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gettin closer to the end here...

" _ It is widely assumed by most scholars, and even most of the general populace of Thedas, that the mighty Griffon has been rendered extinct. Extinction of any species is always an immeasurable tragedy, but it also serves as a lesson for those who remain. Never take anything for granted in this world, even the littlest of things. Cherish everything for the wonders they bring, for the spark they light. For while a species or genus long believed extinct can sometimes miraculously return, such as the High dragon, they can just as easily remain lost to us forever. _ "

-Creatures of Thedas Volume 6 Apppendix 2 Ser Daphen Atterwin, transcribed by Benjanim Jasparelle 

  
  


It was clear, the further they ventured into the town, that what had befallen the poor souls of the past had been a cascade of misfortune. The townsfolk had indeed relied heavily on the rye harvests, as very little else had been found to the contrary. The stream had no fish, or at least anything worth catching and eating, there were sparse few fruit trees- more a decoration than a food source, and the hillock was surrounded by rye on all sides. Either it had successfully choked out the competition, or it was the sole field crop.

Either way… the people here had succumbed to starvation, and all the consequences that followed.

There were bones, littered about and piled in corners, split and cracked in places and with visible teeth marks in others. They were not the kind left by animals. Others bore the marks of weaponry, grooves cut into the surface or left in amongst the white remains. The town had collapsed, the people turned to in-fighting and likely cannibalism. Many hadn't even made it to a grave. 

Had the demon witnessed the fall of this place?

Perhaps when it had been a spirit once it had watched over this town, only to twist as the harvests grew worse, or stopped altogether. Now it watched them, an Antivan Bard and Fereldan scholar, as they took in the aftermath of a tragedy long before their time. 

"Deathblossoms." Daphen pointed towards a thorny low-sitting shrub, reddish purple like a bruise with petals that were bone-white. They were familiar, often showing up as a symbol for death, but here in nature they were simply yet another striking flower to look at. "The leaves are potent ingredients for healing tinctures."

"I've never seen them before, except in paintings." 

"They grow from decay- detritivores, like mushrooms and worms. They will wither away when there is nothing left to break down." 

"They are rather pretty," Benjanim admitted. "If a bit macabre." A slice of beauty, growing up from rot and death.

"Plants and animals- they've always had a complex relationship. How wonderful a friendship, a rivalry," Daphen mused. "Much of the world is like that, I think. We all can't live without each other."

"I'm certain we could all live with less giant spiders."

Daphen chuckled, parting a curtain of ivy hanging from a lone archway, leading towards the large manor at the edge of the town. 

"You say that about the giant scorpions too."

"And I'm right about both."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter but hey buildup is king


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting weird in fanfic land
> 
> Loosely based on the Sir David Attenborough great horned owl scene minus the shiny helmet

" _ The humble nug is a relatively recent addition to the known world, despite their stunning prolictivity, as they were not discovered until after the First Blight. Given how numerous they are both above and below the surface, it is hard to imagine a landscape devoid of the creatures. Omnivorous to a fault, they eat anything and everything before them. At first, they were seen as nothing more than a nuisance, a pest, but now they are a valuable source of supple leather and food stock. More so they are invaluable as nature's most efficient clean-up crew. It is theorized they can withstand the effects of the darkspawn taint, and may help in the recovery of the land. _ "

-Creatures of Thedas Volume 3 Ser Daphen Atterwin, transcribed by Benjanim Jasparelle 

To say things were getting stranger the further into the ruined town they went, the greater the understatement. Birds flitted in and out of existence, insects grew larger and gained new and unusual additions, and the air was taking on an ozone tinge. The deeper they explored, the more the Veil thinned, and the overgrowth became thicker, the damage more recent, and the bodies more intact. Some of them were likely recent, given the generic Templar armor strewn about. 

"There aren't enough corpses here," Daphen observed.

Benjanim stared at him blankly. "Why are you saying that like it is a bad thing?"

"Did it sound bad? It's really not," Daphen clarified awkwardly. "It's more of… well there's not really much of a whole  _ town's _ worth of dead here."

"Are you saying… some of the townsfolk left?"

"I'd say most of them, yes. I imagine they simply settled elsewhere to wait out the poor rye years only to not return again."

One of the bodies groaned weakly and both men jumped.

Benjanim came close to rushing to help, only to realize the body was no longer whole. A spirit had taken up residence, and with a flash had left, seemingly decided it had seen enough. If only the demon responsible for all of this felt the same. He shuddered under it's watchful gaze. 

"Oh no," Daphen breathed, sudden and loud in the oppressive quiet, before rushing off to the base of a withered and oddly glowing tree. 

A baby bird, a Carrion Dove, if Benjanim recalled correctly, sat peeping sadly amongst the grasses. It seemed relatively unharmed by the fall, but was far too young to fly yet, and would not last long outside of the nest. Daphen gently scooped it up, and began searching the branches for the nest of sticks and bone. 

"There, to the right, not too far up," Benjanim pointed helpfully. He was long since accustomed to Daphen doing things like this- although doing it for a wildly territorial and aggressive scavenger baby was new. He watched the parents click and chirp angrily from above and fretted internally. 

Daphen had climbed many trees before this one, although they were certainly all less Fade-touched, and so he scaled it with relative ease, cooing gently and calmly at the foul bird tucked in his pocket. He usually had a smaller audience for these sorts of things, as not only were the parents watching and Benjanim anxiously on stand-by to catch him, but the demon kestrel had also taken an interest in the proceedings. Daphen remained unperturbed, as usual, regardless.

" **Why do you bother, human** ," the kestrel spoke and Benjanim jolted with a curse. " **It will die, as all things will. Your work will be for naught.** "

"That is true," Daphen replied, settling the bird into the disgusting nest without a sliver of revulsion. "It may fall out of the nest again, or the parents may reject it. It could succumb to any manner of things between this moment and the next. But it could also survive through this moment and the next, and grow, and build a nest of it's own. Either way, it will continue to bring life to the world."

Daphen looked straight at the kestrel and smiled.

"Nobody can see the future, not even spirits, so why not give this one a chance?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Benjanim Jasparelle. He is my precious child and I would do anything for him but also I can't wait for him to suffer.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nearing the enddddd
> 
> *distant, unintelligible screaming*

" _ There are many things in this world that cannot be explained easily, or at all. For myself, such things typically involve others, 'non-animals', as it were. If it were not for my dearest companion Benjanim, I doubt I would willingly ever see another person again. Sometimes, such singularity sounds like a blessing, but the delight his company has brought always makes me reconsider such lonely thoughts. He is a reminder, that while the world can be dark and cruel, it need not always be so." - _ Excerpt from an unpublished letter, Ser Daphen Atterwin

The manor, tucked deep within the heart of the town and no doubt the source of the bleeding Veil, was still mostly intact. Weathered and warped in places, but standing regally at the crest of the hill. The kestrel followed them at a leisurely pace, flapping silently overhead until slipping through a broken window.

"How unnerving," Benjanim grumbled. "What do you suppose it wants?"

"It's merely curious about us," Daphen replied quietly. "Judging by how it hasn't killed us yet." He grinned happily. "I'm actually surprised by that, to be quite honest."

"You were  _ expecting  _ it to kill us?" Benjanim hissed.

"Yes, although I did certainly hope it wouldn't."

_ Maker _ , did he want to  _ throttle  _ Daphen sometimes. 

He politely refrained and instead followed the ecologist through the unlocked doors of the manor. Even in the low lighting and through the dust and mold, the interior was still impressively opulent. Touched only by time and nature, the gold gildings and marble inlays remained in all their desolate glory. Those strange flickering vines trailed around columns and dangled from the railings from balconies above. Bird nests were tucked into every corner, unseen insects clicked and chirped in a symphony, and the furniture that remained had wide bracket fungus bursting from the upholstery. 

Paintings hung from the walls, the oil flaking but the images still visible. Landscapes and people, all of which were unrecognizable, from times too far in the past to be remembered. Some were images of the ruling family, the same faces popping up in family pictures. For most, the lord's face had been torn away. A small child appeared in a few, chubby cheeks red with delight as the lady smiled. In others, the lady looked aged and wracked with melancholy.

Papers and books littered the floors of each room, most too water damaged or eaten away at to be read. Benjanim and Daphen sifted through them curiously, but neither could glean anything regarding the fate of the family and their land.

Beyond the entry ways, further into the manor into the courtyard, the ozone tinge became stronger, and raw shivers of magic sent Benjanim's hair standing on end. In the midst of the courtyard was a column of-  _ something _ , rising up from the ground. Swirling within were the lights of a million wisps, rising like bubbles from the base, surrounded by felandaris, crystal grace, and strange, unidentifiable plants and flowers that tapered and glowed the closer they came to the whirling tornado of Fade- of pure, unadulterated  _ magic _ . Smaller wisps that escaped fizzled out, dropping like dew to the floral base, but larger ones coalesced into ethereal shapes of vibrant butterflies and luminescent moths. 

The kestrel flew ahead through a door left ajar, readily followed by Daphen and a less eager Benjanim. The kestrel perched on the warped cherry wood footboard of a caved in bed. Ragged, stained curtains fluttered in the breeze as the two men's eyesight adjusted to the low light after the unnatural bright of the courtyard. 

On the floor lay the remains of a woman- likely the lady of the house, a thin book in her boney hands, her skin aged leather. 

Daphen gently took the book and flipped through the pages with a sad frown. 

Eventually he spoke, "her only child died. She suspected her husband of poisoning her, and when she confronted him… he must have killed her."

"Then, what happened to the town?"

" **They starved. He lied to them and they hungered, and ate whatever was left, until there was nothing,** " the kestrel said. " **Such meaninglessness. How does one find a purpose in such chaos? Beauty in destruction? There is none.** "

The kestrel laughed a hollow noise, empty eyes locked on Daphen. " **You know it too, don't you? Your fellows were quick to toss you away, after your debacle at the Circle. Your parents, friends, your very livelihood and passions, gone in a blink. It is, all of it, meaningless.** "

The demon's words were a weight, dragging them into the depths of no return, and yet… there was truth in them. An undeniable truth that could not be ignored. He had lost so much too- felt the burn of a childhood home turned to ash, the pain of a father selling him for coin, the sharp hilt of a Crow dagger in his hand. He had been used, deceived, and hurt so much and for what? What good did any of it do? Why tread water when to drown felt inevitable?

" **Why continue to struggle?** "

"Honestly," Daphen murmured. "There isn't much of a reason why." His shoulders were slumped, and for once he looked small, more like his age. Were there always bags under his eyes? Streaks of grey in his hair? Benjanim couldn't recall. Perhaps he looked the same, only with the lingering scars of talons across his cheek. 

"But all of that nothing… it sure does get rather heavy, doesn't it?"

The kestrel shifted and morphed into a gaunt creature with hollow spaces between each rib, skin stretching and translucent with each step. Just looking at it made Benjanim wish to lie down and never stand again. Daphen never looked away.

"If you set down all that nothing of yours, you can see all the good things you still have, that could be." Daphen smiled, a small sad thing, and reached out a hand to the demon and offered- "you can look if you'd like. Come see the world as I do."

"Just take my hand."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ser Daphen op


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nearing the endddd

" _ There is a flower found deep in the Korcari Wilds that has only been recorded twice in writing. The Grand Spire, or Maker's Rose, is often mistaken for a stone formation, a stalagmite, and takes decades to grow. Then, after a hundred years, it unfurls itself and blooms into a glorious twirl of vibrant petals with unimaginable colors. One such flower had been carefully cultivated in the heart of the Imperial gardens of Orlais, and it's said that when it finally bloomed, the sight was so beautiful it caused Empress Adelaide's heart to burst, and she fainted dead from ecstasy." _

-Plants of Thedas Vol. 4, Ser Daphen Atterwin, transcribed by Benjanim Jasparelle

Benjanim often feared for Daphen's life. 

From the moment they first met, when he lay mauled in the Fereldan snow, betrayed by his Patron, betrayed by his Crow contacts, and Daphen was all that stood between him and a trio of hungry wyvernlings. Each time Daphen set out to befriend, study, or wrestle some new and terrifying creature, he would think  _ this is it _ . This was when the story of Ser Daphen would end. The wyverns, the dragons, the spiders, the dangerous creatures big and small- all were harmless compared to what demonic possession promised. He had never experienced a fear as visceral as this.

And he was helpless to stop it.

The first demon hadn't reached out to Daphen quite like this- from what he had gleaned from all the gossip. The Fear demon summoned by a young Circle Mage never had the pull this strange  _ yearning _ demon possessed, or maybe Daphen just hadn't been allowed near it for long enough. His bloody thesis- that demons could revert, to change into a spirit or  _ more  _ if given the chance- of course it would be the death of him. Benjanim wished to scream, to push Daphen out if the way, because he couldn't bear to lose him too-

All that left his lips was a whimper as he stood frozen.

The demon took Daphen's outstretched hand, closed it's vacant eyes and-

-

-nothing.

There was no flash of light, no sound or sign of anything changing. Daphen stood still, the demon's hand still in his, and a smile still tilting his lips. Benjanim couldn't say he'd ever seen a possessed person before, but he expected something would at least look… different. 

The demon hissed angrily and ripped it's hand from Daphen's chronically gentle hold. " **Is this some trick, human? I see** **_nothing_ ** ."

"That's because the world, the  _ future _ , is what you make of it," Daphen explained softly. "Nobody plants a seed and expects a tree to appear. We do things in hope that someday, something good will happen."

" **You know the truth of what happened here. Nothing good has come of this place, only death.** "

"There is heartbreak and horror here yes, but the rye and plants they so loved continue to grow. New creatures call this place a home. Even here in this room, is evidence of a mother who loved her son to the end, and a spirit who loved a place so much it stayed," Daphen argued. "There is something good in every space. You need only to look for it."

" **How** ." The demon asked, voice less like the hollow echo of an empty plain. **"How can you look away from the abyss?** " 

"You find the edges and then you climb." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rip ser daphen yo


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the end

" _ If there is one aspect I could use to describe Ser Daphen's legacy, it would be his endless kindness to all things in the world. Creatures bit and stung and defecated on him all throughout his life, and he never responded with malice at any point. He accepted it, as part of their nature, as Nature. He had a boundless love for all things, even things most people would fear or loathe. Even the Demon of Shiyir; the source of a great deal of debate surrounding his life's work. Some say the demon ruined him, but others… Well, he always did talk on and on about planting seeds, didn't he? I just wish he could have seen all the verdancy he left in his wake."  _ \- Excerpt from Reminisces on the Road: the Extraordinary Life of Ser Daphen Atterwin, by Benjanim Jasparelle

The gentle sound of the breeze pushing through the boughs of trees and shifting rye was a low undertone to the chirping of crickets and calling birds. Overhead, the sun had reached its duller zenith before it began to set, melting orange and red as the day came to an end. It was peaceful, normal. One would hardly think the world had just changed in a fundamental way just a few hours ago.

Maybe nothing had really changed.

Life was still industriously chugging away, heedless to the  _ something _ new and strange that was now joining them. Benjanim wondered how long it would last until its true form was revealed, or it reverted back to the form it once had before Daphen. Not for the first time, and not likely for the last, he wondered if letting it go was the right thing to do. Daphen seemed to think so, for all the good that did him. 

Benjanim looked up at the evening sky, tinged at the edges by the lingering magic of the Fade. The Veil no longer existed here in any great capacity. A great hole had been punched out over this place, and the Fade seeped into every corner. He wondered if another demon would come and claim this place, and how easy it would be. Perhaps it would be not so unlike the Breach that plagued the south not so long ago. 

This place suffered a far less cataclysmic fate than the unfortunate Temple of Sacred Ashes and the former neighboring settlement of Haven.

An owl hooted in the distance, and a flock of starlings took flight, shaking him from his musings. He needed to focus and chronicle what happened here before the details became muzzy. Daphen had lost nearly everything for this damned thesis of his, and Benjanim would be twice-damned if he lost it all again because of a shoddy manuscript.

Of course… such a thing…

Such a thing, if published, would shake the very foundations of the world. It would upend widely held beliefs, it would go against the Chantry, it would destroy their careers. Benjanim didn't care much for his own reputation. He had lived the life of a scoundrel and had kept the company of cruel people until they attempted to have him killed off (and very nearly succeeded). He cared only for Daphen now; Daphen who had worked so hard and had become the face of ecology. A man who was now, generally, held in high esteem. 

Benjanim's pen faltered. 

"Publishing this," he said quietly. "Daphen… it'll ruin you."

The bright laughter of Ser Daphen startled the flock of starlings that had just begun to settle. They cawed irately. 

"Will it really?" He asked jovially, knee deep in the crystalline canal waters and failing to catch one of the odd silver fish darting about his feet. He looked up at Benjanim, sat on the crumbling rails of the curved bridge with a knowing glint in his eyes. "Why, I think this might just be my best work yet."

Benjanim wished to throw a rock at the man- but he was still reeling and tender and raw from nearly losing him, so the rock would have to wait. 

"What about your work on Two- Snout Voles? You won an award for that one."

"Which I then had to sell for supper," Daphen replied, grumbling, "that stew was terrible."

"That's because it wasn't a stew, it was a slop." Benjanim smiled, shook his head and continued to write. 

This was a terrible idea, but that had never stopped Daphen before. Not when there was a chance to change the world for the better.

"Do you suppose Offtish would still be willing to cart us to the Manticores?"

"If she's even still there we should just head back to the coast."

"But Benji! It's their mating season! Think of the  _ plumage _ -" 

Benjanim interrupted with a huff, "all the more reason to  _ not _ go to the Manticores."

The two bickered as the sun began to set in earnest, and the town filled with the cacophony of its newer, nocturnal residents. Above them, a kestrel arced, feeling fuller than it ever had before. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh these two. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this and hopefully it offers a nice lil morale boost for whatever comes next!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
